


The Morning After

by anthonyedwardstark



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Hand Jobs, Hangover, M/M, Morning After, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 08:06:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthonyedwardstark/pseuds/anthonyedwardstark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not the story of John and Sherlock's first night together. Nor is it the story of the weeks and months of unresolved tension leading up to that night.</p>
<p>This is the story of the morning after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Sherlock is the property of the BBC, Stephen Moffat, Mark Gatiss, and is based off of the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> Check out my [Tumblr](http://anthonyedwardstark.tumblr.com/).

Shrinking away from the light coming through the window, Sherlock clenched his eyes shut. The horrid taste in his mouth told of far too much to drink the previous night as did his throbbing head. But what most bothered him was the warm body laying next to him in his bed. He wrenched one eye open and his horror grew. Peeking out from the edge of the duvet was the short blond hair of John Watson. He clenched his eyes shut once more, this time in horror as vague memories from the night before assaulted his mind.

There was drinking. He definitely remembered drinking. Lots of drinking. And talking. And then there was a kiss. And then there was kissing. And then there was dragging his fingers through John's short, cropped hair.

And then there was more. Moaning _oh yes_ , _oh God yes_ , and _please_ , and _ohgodohgodohmygod_ , _never stop_ , _please_ , as they rolled over and over, rutting against each other between his sheets. Now he lay still, muscles taut with embarrassment and nervousness and anger with himself for having given his secret away.

John wasn't supposed to know how Sherlock felt. He was never supposed to know. And now it was ruined.

A groan emerged from his bed companion. Sherlock froze.

John pushed himself up on his elbows, squinting his eyes, running his hands over his face and smacking his lips against the bad taste.

"Bollocks," was all he said before collapsing facedown on to the bed.

Sherlock remained still, tension building while he waited for John's reaction.

John huffed into the bed and mumbled something that Sherlock could not discern.

It took several long moments for the realization to hit John. And then John's eyes flew open and he stared at Sherlock who refused to meet his gaze.

"Did we...?" John asked.

Sherlock gave a single sharp nod in reply.

John released a loud huff of air, rolled over onto his back, and raked his hands across his face. He let his hands fall back down to his sides.

"Right, then," he said.

They lay in an uncomfortably tense silence.

"And did... I mean, do you... that is, to say... what do...," John stumbled over his words.

"Spit it out, John," Sherlock sighed.

"Do you... regret... doing it?" John managed to ask.

Sherlock paused. His eyes darted to stare at John through the corners of his eyes.

Sherlock's tongue darted out nervously an wet his lips. He opened his mouth to answer, but promptly shut it.

And then he shook his head definitively.

"Oh, thank God," John desperately whispered as he athletically rolled over and pinned Sherlock to the sheets.

John hovered over Sherlock, supporting his weight on his forearms. They stared at each other for a moment before John leant down and pressed his face to Sherlock's. Not a kiss, really. But their lips and their noses and their cheeks rubbed against one another. John released a shuttered sigh of pleasure and Sherlock flipped him over onto his back. He kissed across John's cheeks and down his jaw and then trailed down his neck. As he reached John's collar, the kisses became wetter and sloppier. He kissed down John's sternum and down his abdomen and paused at John's hips. Then he crawled to the foot of the bed and stopped at John's feet.

He licked and nipped his way up John's legs, pausing midway to suck on the tender flesh on the sides of his knees before continuing up. He licked one long stripe over the crest of one hip and then the other. Then, he kissed his way to John's pubic bone and licked along it teasingly. John moaned in pleasure. Sherlock smirked and blew a stream of cold air across the wet flesh. John groaned loudly. Sherlock licked another stripe even closer to the place John so wanted him to be. He blew more cold air on the trail of saliva. John's back arched and his toes curled.

"Ugh, please," he begged.

Sherlock looked up across John's body and their eyes met. Sherlock grinned and crawled partway back down John's legs. He grabbed the man's calf and forced his thighs further apart. Then he lowered his head to the junction between his lover's torso and his thigh and laved his tongue into the crevice, mouthing against the soft skin. John's eyes clenched shut, his jaw fell and his lips parted as he inhaled sharply.

"Oh, God," John surrendered.

Sherlock lifted his head and moved to John's other leg to do the same thing.

"Sherlock," he moaned just as Sherlock's nose reached his pubis and nuzzled his pubic hair, warm air from his nose teasing against his cock.

John pushed himself up on to his elbows and tilted his chin down to watch Sherlock. Sherlock raised his eyes and maintained eye contact while he finally licked one long stripe along the underside of John's cock. John fell back on to the bed.

"Oh, Fuck!" he exclaimed.

Sherlock grinned and hummed in response before taking the tip into his mouth.

John inhaled sharply and breathlessly whispered, "Ohmygodohdeargodoooooohhhhhhfuck!"

Sherlock chuckled around the tip of John's length and the vibrations forced a loud groan from John. He took John's cock deeper into his mouth, moving his tongue side to side along the underside of the shaft, creating a delicious friction for his lover. He dragged his hands up along the inside of John's legs until he reached the tops of his thighs. He then reached around John's hips and dug his fingernails into the cheeks of his lover's bum causing him to arch his back, fist the sheets and throw his head against the pillow.

"Sherlock," was all he managed to moan.

Sherlock worked his tongue expertly around his cock, twisting and offering different sorts of friction for John's pleasure. At a particularly fantastic angle, John let out a strangled gasp and bucked his hips, pushing deeper into Sherlock's mouth. He then reached one hand down to firmly grasp a fistful of Sherlock's black hair and wrap the locks around his fingers. Sherlock stopped moving and let John fuck his mouth at his own pace.

John's pace was very different from Sherlock's. It had a much faster pace and was made of smaller thrusts deeper in Sherlock's mouth interrupted by an occasional withdraw from the back of his mouth to rub the head of his cock against Sherlock's palate.

John couldn't resist bringing his other hand to Sherlock's head and gripping his curly hair, getting a strong grasp on both sides of his head as he fucked his mouth. Sherlock moaned again deep in his throat and that was enough to push John over the edge. He could feel a tightening in his balls that shot straight up his spine as he cried out and came in Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock swallowed expertly.

John lay on the bed gasping for breath.

"You... are... unbelievable. Come up here," he said in between gasps, pulling Sherlock up the bed.

Sherlock stopped when they were face to face, only a few millimeters worth of distance between their lips.

Without breaking their intense gaze, Sherlock informed John, "You seem to suffer from halitosis."

The corners of John's mouth twitched upward.

"Is that so?" he whispered in reply.

Sherlock nodded slightly and John lifted his head up to press a soft kiss to his lips.

John pulled back slightly and said, "Well, you just swallowed my cum so neither of our mouths are exactly minty clean and fresh right now."

Sherlock pursed his lips and asked, "Are you complaining about me swallowing? Because, I must say, that would be a first."

John let out a laugh at both the ridiculousness of the thought of laughing and at Sherlock's lack of etiquette before bringing Sherlock down for a much more intense kiss and rolling them over.

"No. I'm definitely not complaining," John said as he started kissing across Sherlock's sharp jawline and down his neck. Sherlock tilted his head to the right to accommodate.

The phone on the bedside table rang. John lifted his head from Sherlock's neck and looked at the mobile.

"Ignore it," Sherlock demanded, pulling John's head back down to his collar bone.

John grinned against Sherlock's clavicle and reached down between them to grasp Sherlock's length in his hand.

Sherlock moaned. He began fisting Sherlock's cock, pulling up and sliding back down.

"Chaffing," Sherlock reminded John.

John kissed Sherlock soundly on the mouth and said, "Of course."

He leaned over Sherlock, to the bedside table and reached past the mobile to grab the bottle of hand lotion. He pumped several dollops into his palm and placed the bottle back on the table. John brought his dry hand to Sherlock's chin and led him to another deep kiss while his other hand traveled south. He wrapped his hand around Sherlock's cock and smeared the lotion along the shaft.

Sherlock inhaled sharply at the cool sensation of the lotion.

"Sorry. I'll warm it up a bit," John spoke into Sherlock's mouth while he began to pump faster, friction warming the lotion and providing an indescribably pleasurable sensation.

"Oh, John," Sherlock moaned as he threw his head back, stretching out his neck for John to nip and suck on.

It was not much longer before Sherlock was unselfconsciously thrashing, bucking, and moaning John's name as he came on John's hand and his own stomach.

John collapsed on the bed next to him. They both lay flat on their backs, staring up at the ceiling with chests heaving and breathing heavily. John lifted his head up and began feeling around until he grabbed the sheet and wiped his lotion and come covered hand on it. He reached over, pulling the sheet, and wiped off Sherlock's stomach. Then he threw the sheet on the bedroom floor.

"Thanks," Sherlock said, out of breath.

The mobile rang again.

"You going to get that?" John asked.

"No. Not particularly interested and it's too far away," Sherlock said dismissively, still breathing heavily.

The phone continued to ring.

"Damn it," John huffed as he pushed himself up and reached over Sherlock to pick up the mobile.

"What?" he asked with the phone to his ear.

"It's Lestrade," the voice on the other end of the line explained.

"What do you want?" John asked brusquely.

Lestrade paused and there was silence across the line.

"We're at a crime scene," Lestrade answered.

"That's where you are, not what you want," John replied, exasperated.

"I've been trying to reach Sherlock. Why hasn't he responded to the texts I sent? He never turns down a murder," Lestrade asked.

"Yeah, sorry about that. He was a bit busy. Still is busy. And he'll be busy for at least another few hours," John answered.

"We really need some help down here," Lestrade pleaded.

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Sherlock demanded and held out his hand for the phone.

"Lestrade," Sherlock said.

"Oh! Sherlock, look, mate, we could really use yo-," Lestade began before he was interrupted.

"Sorry, Lestrade. John's right. Can't help right now. I'm too busy fucking," Sherlock stated.

Lestrade paused and then said, "You mean 'too fucking busy?'"

"That too. Goodbye, Lestrade," Sherlock said then promptly hung up the phone.

The two men lay in bed quietly for a moment after Sherlock hung up on the Detective Inspector. The silence hanged heavy between them. Then, the two men burst into uncontrollable giggles.

Sherlock turned his head to the side and stared at John with a bright smile on his face.

"Tea?" he asked.

John rolled his eyes, and said "Of course."

the end


End file.
